


small talk

by zouisau



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Discussion of Anxiety, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Oh Sehun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:14:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26518804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zouisau/pseuds/zouisau
Summary: Chanyeol and Jongin are friends with benefits -- without the friends part.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 30
Kudos: 114





	small talk

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from majid jordan's song--one of my favorites
> 
> i also literally cannot come up with summaries
> 
> mistakes my own this is just for fun blah blah

Chanyeol stiffens up when Jongin walks in, silently praying, _don’t sit here, don’t sit here._

All the sex they’ve had must count for something because Jongin nods casually at him, before walking to the other side of the classroom, taking a seat next to a girl Chanyeol doesn’t know.

Chanyeol deflates, feels his shoulders droop as the tension leaves his body.

“Is the sex really that bad?” Junmyeon whispers as he leans over, eyebrows raised as he looks over to where Jongin is sitting.

Chanyeol pushes him away, “No.” He really, really hopes he’s not blushing, doesn’t need Junmyeon (or god forbid, Sehun) to have any more ammunition than they already do. Hooking up with Jongin wasn’t something he talked about so openly.

Nothing wrong with Jongin, necessarily, it just was complicated.

Junmyeon snickers and straightens up.

“You’ve been hanging around Sehun too much.” Chanyeol accuses. Junmyeon’s whole face goes soft at the mention of Sehun and Chanyeol is just a tad bit jealous. Mostly he can’t imagine being that in love with someone. Not that Junmyeon has ever said he’s in love—it’s just obvious to everyone.

“We’re getting dinner tonight if you wanna come with,” Junmyeon says, twirling his pen a little and glancing at the clock hanging above the door. Students are still trickling in, but the Professor has the presentation loaded up and ready to go.

Chanyeol rolls his eyes, “Bold move inviting me on your date.”

“It’s not a date,” Junmyeon responds just as the Professor greets the class.

___

The thing with Jongin had started late last spring—right before exams had started. There had been a block party, and Chanyeol had been a little tipsy. Only two beers to take the edge off, make the anxiety in his chest dissipate just a little. Had ached for one more drink, but he had exams in two days and needed to study, couldn’t afford the hangover, and really who plans a party so close to exams. And Jongin, well Jongin is hot. And Chanyeol is hot (despite what Sehun says), and it had been so fun to be pinned to the wall of Jongin’s bedroom and be fucked until he couldn’t stand anymore.

It was a one-time thing.

Chanyeol took his exams, did a summer abroad program in Australia, and came back for the fall semester ready to get back to it. He hadn’t thought about Jongin at all.

He somehow still found himself back under Jongin.

It was easy, a friends with benefits arrangement without the ‘friends’ part. They fucked and that was it.

The second time, Chanyeol had crawled out of Jongin’s bed, grabbed his clothes and shoes, and was about to sneak out when he had half-a-thought that maybe they could do this again. He’d like the weightless feeling he felt when he was under Jongin, so he’d written his number (and then name just to be sure) on a crumpled receipt on Jongin’s desk before quietly slipping out.

Jongin had texted him two days later, just a _sup_ and crotch picture. It really, really wasn’t subtle. If it had been anyone else Chanyeol would have blocked their number. But Jongin was such a good lay, and Chanyeol has this constant itch under his skin that Jongin just knew how to scratch. And really it’s not like Chanyeol had men throwing themselves at him, and he’d found himself once again fucking Jongin.

Really, if any of his friends knew that all it took was a _sup_ and a crotch picture they’d probably never speak to him again. Chanyeol kinda hates himself a little bit for that too.

___

Chanyeol bounces his leg in the way he knows is probably annoying and distracting to everyone around him, but he can’t help it. He keeps glancing at his watch willing it to move forward just a little faster. He’s supposed to meet Jongin in twenty minutes, which means if he wants to be appropriately late he needs to leave in ten minutes.

They hadn’t seen each other through winter break, each going to their respective family homes for the holiday, and he’s excited to be able to have semi-regular sex after a long month. Having semi-consistent sex all last semester had really spoiled him.

They hadn’t messaged either during that time, even though Chanyeol had constantly found himself looking at the cursor blinking in the messages he had with Jongin—waiting for him to say something and reach out. They weren’t friends but that didn’t mean they couldn’t sext. It had been radio silence from Jongin though and Chanyeol let it, even if the itch under his skin grow until it made him want to crawl out of his body.

Junmyeon is sitting next to Chanyeol, caging him in their shared booth. Across from them, Sehun is seemingly concentrated, eyebrows furrowed just the slightest bit. Every so often Junmyeon looks up to watch Sehun. There’s the faintest smile painted on his lips. Chanyeol so badly wants to tell him he’s not being subtle at all, but also he really doesn’t feel like getting dragged into that conversation.

He focuses his thoughts back on willing his watch to move faster, sure he can discover his telepathic powers, but it’s almost like the watch is taunting him—the hands so slow Chanyeol wonders if it’s broken.

He keeps thinking about meeting up with Jongin, shakes his leg incessantly. They hadn’t talked about the two of them taking the same class this semester, it hadn’t come up at all last semester when everyone had signed up for classes. In fact, Chanyeol and Jongin don’t really talk—they fuck regularly, but there’s a very obvious lack of pillow talk between them. Chanyeol hadn’t even known they were doing the same program. Chanyeol hopes that the fact that they’re in the same class won’t stop them from continuing to hook up.

He’s brought out of his thoughts when he feels something crawling up his leg, doesn’t think as he jumps back in his seat and practically pushes Junmyeon out of the booth in his haste to get out.

“What’s wrong with you?” Junmyeon’s glaring at him, picking his phone up from where it had clattered on to the ground.

Chanyeol’s examines his leg for any spiders, “There was something fucking crawling on my leg. I almost died.” He’s getting a few looks from other people at the café, but he can’t be bothered to care.

Junmyeon rolls his eyes, plops back down. “Stop being a baby.”

Chanyeol leans over, starts gathering his stuff, “I’m not sitting near the window anymore. Spiders crawl in and then crawl all over me. It was huge, you should have felt it.”

Junmyeon’s still scowling at him and Chanyeol looks over at Sehun for back-up. Sehun’s decidedly not looking at them though, face a soft pink as he looks intently at his laptop screen. His fingers are hovered over the keyboard but he’s not typing anything. Chanyeol frowns, realization washing over him.

“It was you, you little shit,” he says, leaning over to slap Sehun on the shoulder.

“Ow,” Sehun says, rubbing his shoulder a little. Chanyeol’s sure he didn’t hit him that hard.

At the same time, Junmyeon scolds, “Chanyeol.”

“He put his gross feet all over me,” Chanyeol pouts. Sometimes Junmyeon being in love with Sehun is a detriment to their whole friend group.

“My feet aren’t gross,” Sehun hisses. “Plus it’s not my fault your freakishly long limbs get in everyone’s way.”

“I’m barely taller than you,” Chanyeol pouts, then frowns as the realization of what Sehun said dawns on him. “Were you two playing footsies?” Junmyeon and Sehun have enough decency to look a little ashamed. “Gross, I was right in the middle, keep me out of your gross foot sex thing.”

“It’s not a foot sex thing,” Sehun snaps; Junmyeon just coughs uncomfortably, face a soft shade of pink.

Chanyeol scowls, “Absolutely shameless.” He glances at his watch, if he leaves now he’ll be right on time, but it’s better than staying here and having to be victim to Sehun’s feet again.

“You’re one to talk,” Sehun spits out. “Your tail’s practically wagging at the thought of seeing Jongin again.”

Chanyeol shoots Sehun a look that he hopes communicates _I’ll kill you_. “You’re just jealous.”

Sehun rolls his eyes, “Of what exactly?”

Chanyeol doesn’t actually have anything to say so instead he shoves his planner into his bag and scowls, “I’m gonna go now. Please try to keep your feet to yourself.”

___

He ends up being early to Jongin’s (or well, right on time). He pauses before pressing the buzzer, thinking maybe he’ll stay out here for a few minutes, doesn’t want too seem too eager, or have his tail wagging or whatever Sehun said. But he really doesn’t see the point of just waiting idly, and doesn’t think Jongin would mind too much, so he presses the buzzer.

Jongin’s voice crackles over the speaker when Chanyeol presses it, Jongin buzzes him in quickly.

He’d been here countless times, and yet it still feels like the first few times. No one’s out in the hallway, but Chanyeol feels a little watched, as if all the neighbors were looking at him through their peepholes. Feels like everyone knows he’s just there for sex.

Chanyeol thinks maybe he should start going on dates, take a break from all the mindless sex and try to find someone he can be grossly in love with.

Jongin opens the door shirtless and any thoughts Chanyeol has about dating fly out the window. Chanyeol doesn’t like to think of himself as superficial, but Jongin is so hot it’s a little unfair. Chanyeol doesn’t mind that he doesn’t even have proper time to take off his shoes before Jongin is pressing him against the door, crowding him in.

Chanyeol gives in easily, anticipation building as Jongin kisses him hard. One of his shoes is still on, and his winter jacket is way too bulky for Chanyeol to be able to enjoy the hard planes of Jongin’s torso, but Jongin is so hot pressed against him and Chanyeol thinks it’s good enough.

“Take this off,” Jongin’s voice is raspy in Chanyeol’s ear as he pulls on the zipper of Chanyeol’s puffer jacket. Jongin takes a step back and Chanyeol takes the opportunity to unzip his jacket and toe off his other shoe.

“Is Kyungsoo home?” Chanyeol asks, half hoping the answer is yes. It’s hot when Jongin’s roommate is home and Jongin holds Chanyeol down, heavy palm pressed against his mouth to stop any sounds from coming out.

“He’s at the library,” Jongin says.

Chanyeol nods, waits for Jongin to say or do something. Jongin hasn’t made to kiss him again, even though Chanyeol is clearly ready to be kissed again, shoes and jacket off.

Jongin opens his mouth at the same time Chanyeol says, “I-.” They both pause. “You can go.”

Jongin shakes his head, “What were you gonna say?”

Chanyeol thinks they’ve never been this awkward before. He feels a little out of his element, despite the familiarity of the apartment. He’s kind of hoping Jongin would just pin him against the door again. “You’re in my child development class,” he says instead.

Jongin seems to think for a moment before nodding, he’s looking at Chanyeol a bit strangely, and Chanyeol wiggles his toes a little. “Yeah, I am.”

They’re still standing by the front door and Chanyeol feels caged in, wants to push Jongin into the apartment.

Chanyeol waits for Jongin to expand, when Jongin doesn’t Chanyeol says, “That’s cool. Are you in the program?”

Jongin’s lip twitches in a small half-smile and he nods. “Yeah. I really want to work with children.”

Chanyeol nods, “Me too.” Although he can’t imagine anyone being in the program who _doesn’t_ want to work with children.

Jongin practically beams at him. Chanyeol thinks he looks very pretty when he smiles so wide, although maybe just a smidge silly, but it’s endearing. Doesn’t exactly know what he did to get such a response.

“I have a niece and nephew,” Jongin moves further into the apartment, leaving Chanyeol at the door for half a second before Chanyeol follows, a small breath escaping his lips. Jongin grabs a picture frame from the top of a bookshelf and hands it to Chanyeol. “We went to this carnival last summer, they’re still a little small to get on some of the rides but we all got our faces painted.”

Chanyeol studies the picture. Jongin’s face is pressed against two little ones; all three are all smiles and dimples, and they each have a small drawing on each cheek. The three of them are absolutely adorable. “You guys are cute.” He tries not to let his voice betray just how cute Chanyeol thinks Jongin is.

Jongin smiles softly and takes the picture frame back. “I talk to them every few days but it’s not the same as being around them you know.”

Chanyeol doesn’t actually have any nieces and nephews of his own, but he’s been student-teaching for two semesters and moving from one classroom to another had broken his heart a little. “I get that.”

There’s a heavy silence between the two, and Chanyeol wishes they could speed this up a little. It’s been so long since he’s last seen Jongin this close-up, and his body is buzzing with anticipation, with need.

Jongin doesn’t make any move towards the bedroom though and Chanyeol doesn’t want to be too pushy, it’s not like it’s his apartment. He racks his brain for something neutral to say. Chanyeol tries to recall if it had been this awkward before winter break too. “You know I think two of my best friends are hooking up.”

Jongin raises his eyebrows at that, “Really?”

“You know Junmyeon? He sits next to me in the child development class? He’s shorter than me and has black hair?” He motions with his hands to show an approximation of how tall Junmyeon is. It’s a loose approximation and he’s sure Junmyeon would scold him if he saw how short he was estimating.

Jongin nods, “I think I remember.”

“Yeah, he’s been like in love with our other friend since like forever. It’s about time, honestly.”

Jongin gives him a soft smile, his eyes shiny with something Chanyeol can’t recognize. “You’re cute,” he says simply, eyes crinkling.

Chanyeol feels a little caught off-guard, Jongin had never so much as told him that while fucking. In fact, this is probably the most they’ve talked since they started hooking up. Chanyeol hopes his expression remains neutral, as he turns his head a little, looking at anything in the apartment other than Jongin. Frankly, there’s not much to look at, but Chanyeol pretends to be absorbed by a throw pillow, as he says, “Do you want to go to your room?” He’s still looking at the pillow, can’t look straight at Jongin, not with the way his heart feels like it did a somersault. There had been something so honest, so innocent about Jongin’s tone that makes Chanyeol want to melt into the floor.

All he can think about is that he wants to get fucked and then blast out of there. He’d run out now except a month really is a long time, and Jongin really is good.

He hopes the weirdness can dissipate after they have sex again, they just need to get back into it and they’ll be back to normal.

Jongin’s eyes widen a little at Chanyeol’s suggestion and he nods a few times, motioning for Chanyeol to follow him as he makes his way over to his room. It’s small and a little cramped, but Chanyeol doesn’t really mind or care.

They seem to get back on the same wave-length when Jongin pushes Chanyeol back on the bed, crawling between his legs. He doesn’t waste any time to kiss Chanyeol with the same hunger as before, lips soft and firm. His palm rests heavy on Chanyeol’s hipbone, pinning him down as he shoves a knee closer to Chanyeol’s crotch, pressing upwards gently. The slight pressure is tantalizing, arousal stirring in Chanyeol.

This is the Jongin he was looking for.

___

Chanyeol’s absorbed in scribbling down Junmyeon’s notes for the reading he was supposed to do for today’s class, when he feels someone standing over him. He looks up to see Jongin standing there.

“Is this seat taken?” He’s gesturing towards the seat in front of Chanyeol’s, and Chanyeol can’t remember who had sat there last class, but then again it’s only the second week of classes and it’s not like they have a seating chart.

He shrugs non-committedly, “Go for it.” There’s something funny in his chest that he pushes down, pretends doesn’t exist.

Chanyeol can feel Junmyeon’s eyes on him, but he ignores any looks and goes back to copying down Junmyeon’s notes, hoping the Professor will start class soon and they can all move on from whatever is hanging between them.

Jongin doesn’t seem to share the same sentiment, turning his body so he’s facing both Junmyeon and Chanyeol. “You didn’t do the reading?”

Chanyeol frowns, doesn’t like the way Jongin made it sound like an accusation. “I just didn’t take notes on the last part.” He can’t help if his tone is slightly defensive, and he presses down on the pen a little harder than necessary, easing up almost immediately. There’s an ugly blotch of ink where he pressed too hard.

“You can always text me for notes, if you want.”

Jongin’s looking at Chanyeol intensely and Chanyeol squirms a little. He hums in response and scribbles the last few words before handing Junmyeon’s notebook back. “Junmyeon doesn’t mind.”

“Well just in case you ever need to,” Jongin shrugs, and turns back around just as the Professor greets the class.

Chanyeol feels something catch in his throat as he stares at the back of Jongin’s neck.

___

Wednesday night finds him in the library. He’s taking a public speaking class as a general requirement; he’d meant to take it earlier but there had been so many other better, and simply more interesting sounding classes that it had kept getting pushed. Also, despite Chanyeol’s friendliness he still didn’t love the thought of public-speaking, couldn’t imagine anyone actually did.

Chanyeol had walked in the first day and had gone straight to the registrar’s office after to beg for an exception, the class was filled with freshman who looked more like middle schoolers than anything. He was stuck though. Unfortunately for his GPA, the class was boring enough that Chanyeol had put off doing his assignment, figuring he could scrape up something last minute. It was less about speeches and more about theory, which Chanyeol couldn’t decide if it was better or worse that way. It was now last minute and Chanyeol was finding it harder than he thought to scrape something—anything—together.

It was just supposed to be an introductory speech, three to five minutes, using a couple of the techniques they’d discuss last class, no big deal. It was basically an ice-breaker but twenty-times worse.

He’s stuck on listing his hobbies—listening to music, playing basketball, spending time with friends—but the problem is that simply listing hobbies doesn’t take up enough time. What he needs is a topic about himself where he can still expand, where he can share some sort of semi-interesting and appropriate anecdote.

“Chanyeol?” Jongin’s standing at the edge of the library table. He has these chunky headphones around his neck that Chanyeol thinks are a bit obnoxious, and has a red lollipop still in its wrapper in his hand.

Chanyeol gives him a small smile, nods once in greeting. “Hey.”

“You’re not working on the assignment for tomorrow are you?”

Chanyeol grimaces. “No,” his tone is maybe sharper than intended, but it seems like Jongin has the impression that Chanyeol is a careless student. Which he’s not, he’s just a chronic procrastinator. “This is for my public speaking class.”

Jongin sits across from Chanyeol and Chanyeol tries not to frown. He’s not sure why it bothers him so much. It’s not a problem for Jongin to sit with him, except for the fact that they’re not friends and there’s other empty tables around. Chanyeol doesn’t want to be rude though.

“I thought that was a freshman class?” Jongin’s unpacking his notebooks and Chanyeol feels anxiety building, he really hopes Jongin is someone quiet to study with because he really does need to finish this assignment.

“I haven’t taken it yet,” Chanyeol says simply, turning back to his document that’s still mostly blank. He’d manage to write his name and his major.

Jongin hums thoughtfully, but doesn’t say anything and Chanyeol’s thankful for the silence.

He turns back to his document, trying to rack his brain for an anecdote about himself—anything he can share. He’s usually good about this, but the pressure of it being due tomorrow and of it having to at least be somewhat entertaining to a bunch of random freshman is making him draw a blank.

He pulls up his messages, typing a quick text to Sehun and Junmyeon.

**_what is a good story about me I can share with my freshman class tomorrow pls respond seriously_ **

He waits a few minutes, clicking back to his document and starting a list of hobbies. He knows three minutes isn’t too long (and let’s be honest, he’s shooting for the minimum here), but his mind is still not giving him much. He writes a bit about his education classes, but even then the small paragraph doesn’t seem to be nearly enough to fill in three minutes.

Sehun and Junmyeon haven’t yet answered and he sends another message.

**_stop ignoring me_ **

He makes sure to include lots of crying emojis for good measure and then glances up at Jongin. Jongin who is still virtually a stranger even if they had sex, and is currently absorbed in his own work.

Chanyeol only feels half bad when he kicks him softly. Jongin had sat across from him uninvited, so really the least he can do is help Chanyeol a little bit.

Jongin looks up questioningly but doesn’t say anything about the kick, just removes his giant headphones.

“What’s more interesting—me scoring the winning basket in a seventh grade basketball game or the fact that I used to be in orchestra in elementary school?” His two hobbies—basketball and music—have been reduced to old stories; he doesn’t do much with either now. Doesn’t have the time or the energy most days.

Jongin wrinkles his nose slightly, “Neither. Is this for your speech?”

“It’s just an intro piece,” Chanyeol looks back at his document, erases all the notes about the two stories. Tries to keep his expression neutral despite Jongin’s clear distaste.

“Didn’t you study abroad like last year or something? Write about that.”

Jongin slips on his giant headphones before Chanyeol can ask how he knew.

The writing comes easier though, writing about Australia is more familiar. He pairs it down at the end, fixing his jumbled thoughts into a more organized sequence. He ignores the messages Junmyeon and Sehun send, finally answering his original question. Pouts a little when they start ragging on him. He’s not even participating in the groupchat and they’re making fun of him.

He’s exhausted, thinks his speech is at least three minutes long, and straightens up, his back cracking in a slightly concerning way.

Jongin as if aware of Chanyeol’s small movements straightens up himself, and takes off his headphones, eyes trained on Chanyeol. “You’re done?”

Chanyeol nods, closes his laptop gently. He’d made bullet points to go off of tomorrow, along with actually writing out his introduction. He thinks that as long as he reads it a few times before class he’ll be fine, as long as he has something to reference during the class.

“Are you going to practice it?” Jongin asks.

Chanyeol looks up at Jongin. At some point Jongin had unwrapped the lollipop and now it’s just sitting in his mouth, his words slightly muffled by the candy. Jongin pulls the candy out of his mouth, the red lollipop in hand as he says, “You can practice on me if you’d like? Whenever I have a presentation I always present to Kyungsoo first and it always helps.”

Chanyeol really doesn’t think they’re the type of fuckbuddies that practice speeches in front of each other. But then again, he hadn’t thought they were the type of fuckbuddies that study together and yet they’d done that.

Jongin pops the lollipop back in his mouth and it’s the sealing factor in Chanyeol’s decision as he nods, accepting Jongin’s offer. Something tantalizing about the candy.

“We can practice at my place?” His tongue darts around the lollipop and Chanyeol kinda wants to throw the stupid candy away and kiss Jongin senseless.

___

A small part of him had hoped Jongin would push him against the wall and fuck him as soon as they’d walked into the apartment, but Kyungsoo’s in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal.

Jongin frowns a little when he sees him, “Long day?” Chanyeol’s left awkwardly standing behind Jongin, switching from foot to foot.

“Tiring,” Kyungsoo shovels another spoonful of cereal into his mouth and then nods at Chanyeol.

“Chanyeol’s gonna practice his speech on me.” Jongin pats Kyungsoo’s back reassuringly rubbing small circles in the middle of his shoulderblades. Chanyeol traces the movement with his eyes, watches the way Jongin’s thumb presses into Kyungsoo’s back to apply pressure. “Do you wanna listen too?”

Chanyeol wants to object to that, but Kyungsoo shakes his head before Chanyeol can figure out the best way to say no. Kyungsoo shoots them an apologetic look, “Sorry, maybe some other time. I think I’m gonna shower and head to bed.” He moves away from Jongin, settling his dish into the sink carefully. “I’ll wash it tomorrow, I promise.”

Jongin nods and Kyungsoo excuses himself.

“We can practice in the living room? Or in my room? Whatever you want.” Jongin’s looking at Chanyeol eagerly, eyes wide and dark.

Chanyeol hadn’t actually expected to practice, is confused if Jongin is tentatively making sure that Chanyeol wants to have sex. “I don’t actually want to practice.”

Jongin furrows his eyebrows, “I thought your speech was tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but I don’t really need to practice.” The awkwardness between them is back and Chanyeol doesn’t know how to deal with it. The sex should still be good, but he’s kind of hoping Jongin maybe feels a bit too. If this is the road to friendship, Chanyeol would rather just have the sex. He hopes Jongin can understand that because Chanyeol really does enjoy the sex, and if this awkwardness bleeds into that, well it would really ruin a good thing.

Jongin frowns a little.

“I thought we were gonna have sex?” Chanyeol says.

“Oh,” Jongin looks a little surprised by that and Chanyeol frowns.

“I mean, we can?” Jongin says, but it comes out more like a question and it makes something weird stir in Chanyeol’s chest.

“We don’t have to,” Chanyeol says. He really doesn’t know why he came all the way here otherwise, but it’s not like he’s going to demand Jongin fuck him.

“No, I want to,” Jongin is quick to say, his eyes have that same eagerness as before, and Chanyeol thinks he looks a bit naïve like that. “If you want to.”

“That’s what I thought I was here for.” Chanyeol points out again, he knows maybe his tone is a little snipey but he just can’t shake the feeling that something is off between them.

“I guess I’m not very good at subtlety.” Jongin shrugs and Chanyeol thinks about their first messages, about Jongin’s crotch photo. “We can, uh,” Jongin motions towards the hallway and Chanyeol takes the cue, face flushing as he steps out of the kitchen, leaving enough room for Jongin to pass by him without touching and lead the way.

Chanyeol trails after him, the feeling of awkwardness still sitting on his shoulders. He feels too big in his body, like his limbs are going to crash against the walls. He thinks about just turning around walking out, going home without a word. Call the whole thing off.

But then he remembers how well their bodies fit together, and he figures maybe one more chance. If it’s bad, well, maybe he can still get an orgasm out of it.

Chanyeol wants Jongin to push him against the bed, fuck him into the mattress and into oblivion. Make Chanyeol forget everything. Make him feel completely weightless.

Jongin’s movements are more tentative, like he can tell Chanyeol is uncomfortable, and Chanyeol strips out of his jeans. Stands in the middle of Jongin’s small room in just his black t-shirt and boxers and tries not to feel too stupid.

Jongin watches him with a small smile on his lips, an unreadable expression in his eyes and Chanyeol feels exposed.

“Fuck me, yeah?” Chanyeol says after a moment, and Jongin smiles wider at that, crowds into Chanyeol’s space until Chanyeol’s knees hit the back of the bed and he flops down. He pushes him up on his elbows and Jongin is leaning over him a little, hands on Chanyeol’s thighs, tracing small, reassuring circles into the flesh.

Jongin slips a hand higher, under Chanyeol’s t-shirt. His short nails scratch up the length of Chanyeol’s body, his other hand slipping under Chanyeol’s waistband.

It’s slow and careful and it makes Chanyeol feel too on edge, even as his body screams for more, practically melting under Jongin’s touches.

Chanyeol worries his bottom lip as Jongin takes Chanyeol in his hand, palm hot and heavy. He pushes him back a little, flipping them so Chanyeol can straddle Jongin’s thighs and Jongin’s hands fall away from Chanyeol’s body. He feels better almost instantly, more in control. Less like his body has been set on fire.

Jongin looks up at him with lust in his eyes, eyes searching Chanyeol’s face and Chanyeol’s glad for the darkness. “Let me, yeah.” He pushes Jongin back so that he’s laying completely on the bed and then crawls off him, between his legs.

He tries to pick up the pace, tries to be more aggressive and less tender as he pulls down Jongin’s pants, his underwear. Makes sure to scratch Jongin’s thighs harsher than needed. Likes the little hiss Jongin lets out.

Chanyeol dips, takes Jongin into his mouth, and closes his eyes. Concentrates on the way Jongin feels, the heaviness in his mouth.

He pushes down the weird feeling that makes him feel like he’s drowning, takes Jongin further in and squeezes his eyes shut.

___

Sehun’s moping about something, pouting into lunch. Chanyeol had tried to pry just a little bit, but Sehun had stayed pretty mute and Chanyeol knew better than to push it. He figured that when Sehun felt like it he would speak up.

Chanyeol instead tried to distract him by telling him about one of his students who had lost a tooth in class. She had immediately burst into tears, the whole class erupting in chaos when she let out the first scream. Both Chanyeol and the teacher had been frozen for half a second, unsure of what was going on.

Sehun had smiled a bit, but hadn’t said much and Chanyeol had jumped straight into another story about his classroom. He figured one of them had to work.

He’s in the middle of telling Sehun about a kid who last week had grabbed a spider with his bare hands and had terrorized the other students, when Jongin shows up. He’s dressed casually in a black cardigan and thin white shirt. Chanyeol kind of wants to snake his hands underneath. He sits on his hands just in case.

“Hey, mind if I sit with you guys? I have class in like an hour.”

It’s strange to see Jongin here, in the open instead of in the confines of his apartment or class. It’s strange that after hooking up for so long they hadn’t ran into each other before—just the two times at parties; and then class.

Chanyeol scoots over a little, gives Jongin enough space to silently invite him to sit. Chanyeol doesn’t think they’ll be there that long, he’s also still generally unsure about how he feels about Jongin hanging around. It’s not like he has anything particularly _against_ Jongin, it’s just that they’re not _friends_ and he doesn’t understand why after five months of fucking Jongin is suddenly acting like they are. It makes him feel out of his element.

Chanyeol thinks maybe he’s being a bit of a dick about it though. He shrugs and scoots over, pretends he doesn’t notice the way Sehun straightens up in his seat in interest.

“Don’t know if you’ve met Sehun before, we live together.” Chanyeol says, pointing to his roommate.

“We’re also best friends,” Sehun shoots Chanyeol a cold look.

Chanyeol rolls his eyes. “Sehun, Jongin. Jongin, Sehun. There.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jongin greets politely. He has a saran-wrapped sandwich in hand that frankly looks less than appetizing.

“Is that your lunch?” Sehun seems to be having the same thought as Chanyeol, his nose wrinkled ever so slightly.

“Uh,” Jongin looks down at his measly sandwich, doesn’t seem to pick up on Sehun and Chanyeol’s slight judgment though. “Yeah.”

“Hm,” Sehun hums and turns back to his own lunch, pushing a piece of broccoli around on the plate.

“What class do you have next?” Chanyeol asks, he figures it’s a safe enough question.

“Interpersonal communications. It’s a gen-ed.” Jongin shrugs and bites into his sandwich. Chanyeol looks away, Sehun’s looking at him, eyebrows raised.

“Do you guys have class soon?”

“I just got back from my classroom so I’m done for the day,” Chanyeol says.

“I have class in a bit,” Sehun shrugs.

“I thought you had your speech today? You went to the classroom too?” Jongin’s looking at Chanyeol. He’s a bit too close, his body turned towards Chanyeol on the same bench.

Chanyeol scoots back just slightly, “Uh, yeah. I just popped in for a few hours after.”

Jongin nods at that, takes another bite of his sandwich. “How was your speech by the way? Did you end up practicing in the morning?”

Chanyeol actually hadn’t, but he doesn’t think it matters either way. Writing the speech was enough help. “Yeah,” he lies.

Jongin smiles, “Did you kill it?”

Chanyeol shrugs, “I guess. It was just an introduction.”

“You worked hard on it though.”

Chanyeol feels his ears go red, rolls up a straw wrapper into a little ball. “Thanks.”

“Chanyeol’s only pretending to be humble. He’s actually very egotistical.” Sehun cuts in.

“Am not,” Chanyeol says.

“Are.” Sehun sticks his tongue out. He seems in a slightly better mood and Chanyeol lets him have it. Can’t believe the thing that brought Sehun out of his funk is making fun of Chanyeol.

Jongin giggles a bit at that and Chanyeol turns to him. The way Jongin’s whole face scrunches up, mouth wide is hilarious and makes Chanyeol laugh a little too.

“Jongin,” Sehun says, and his tone warns Chanyeol that he’s going in for the kill. “How exactly do you know Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol wants to throttle Sehun.

Jongin shifts a little in the hard bench, knee hitting Chanyeol’s own for half a second. It’s not purposeful, but it sends a little shock up Chanyeol’s spine and he straightens up, makes sure he’s as far away as physically possible without pressing his whole body against the wall.

“We have class together,” Jongin says. He’s done with his sandwich and he balls up the saran-wrap.

“Ah, here I thought you guys were sleeping with each other,” Sehun smirks.

Chanyeol kicks Sehun hard under the table.

Jongin looks sheepish, shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess.”

Sehun doesn’t even react to the kick, leg stretching out to shove his own hard against Chanyeol’s shin. “What do you mean you guess? You either are or you aren’t.”

“Shut up,” Chanyeol hisses. But Sehun’s looking at Jongin, not paying Chanyeol any mind.

“We are.” Jongin answers simply, shrugging.

Sehun smiles wide at that. “Is Chanyeol a good lay? I bet he’s not.”

“I swear I’ll kill you.” Chanyeol says. “Don’t answer that.”

“I wasn’t going to.” Jongin laughs. “You guys are funny.”

Sehun smiles at that, a genuine one this time. No malice. “You should come around more often. Meet Junmyeon.”

Chanyeol doesn’t point out that Jongin already knows Junmyeon.

“That’d be fun,” Jongin says simply, his own wide smile decorating his face.

“Here,” Sehun holds out his phone. “Put your number in. We can even cut out the middle man here.” He nods towards Chanyeol.

“Hey,” Chanyeol says. This is not how he thought this lunch would go. Hadn’t imagined Sehun would like Jongin so much. Hadn’t thought Jongin would join them.

Jongin takes Sehun’s phone, smiling happily as he puts in his contact information. Sehun takes it back and stands up, grabbing his tray and picking up Chanyeol’s empty plate. “I’ll catch you two lovebirds later, I need to go print something before my next class. It was nice meeting you Jongin, hopefully we can all hang out soon.” Sehun grins playfully and walks off, leaving Jongin and Chanyeol sitting in the same booth. Chanyeol wants to push Jongin off, needs his space back.

Jongin clearly doesn’t share the same feeling of needing personal space because he turns to Chanyeol, grin too wide and too close, and says, “He’s really nice.”

Nice wouldn’t be the first word Chanyeol would use to describe Sehun but it’s also not too far off so he shrugs. “Yeah, he’s alright.”

Jongin’s smile falters slightly and he says, “Have you started the assignment for child dev? I have like ten pages of reading left but I know there was an article we needed to read for the discussion post. I was gonna go start it if you want to work on it together.”

Chanyeol pinches the underside of his thigh. “Jongin,” he starts tentatively. Jongin is looking at him with wide, dark eyes and Chanyeol kinda sorta wants to kiss him just a little bit. Wants to lose himself just a little bit. “Listen, I think I gave you the wrong idea.”

Jongin’s nose scrunches up, his eyebrows moving towards the center. “What are you talking about?”

His tone isn’t accusatory or harsh but Chanyeol feels the words cut into him anyway and he shifts further back, needs as much space as possible. “It’s just,” he lowers his voice a little. No one is paying attention to them but he wants to make sure no one can hear anyway. “Things are good now, right? Like with just the sex—why ruin it.”

Jongin frowns, his eyes boring into Chanyeol. “I wasn’t asking you out—I just wanted to see if you wanted to study.” His voice is a little bitter, accented with a little laugh that cuts straight into Chanyeol.

“No, I know.” Chanyeol says quickly, his words feel rushed. “I just don’t want to give you the wrong idea, what we have is good right. With just the sex.” 

“Wait, are you trying to tell me you don’t want to be friends?” Jongin is so close and his tone bitter and Chanyeol wants to crawl out of his skin. He’s too far ahead of himself though, already dug himself so deep.

“It’s not that,” Chanyeol tries, his voice tilts up, louder than he wants it to be. “It’s just the sex is so good, and things are a little awkward and I just think-”

Jongin pushes off the booth and Chanyeol finally gets the room he needs, lets out a shaky breath. “Maybe things are awkward because you make them awkward.” Jongin sounds angry, his eyes dark. Chanyeol feels small, wishes the ground could swallow him up.

"Jongin, I.” Chanyeol tries.

“You’re an asshole, Chanyeol. See you around.”

And just like that Jongin is gone, his trash from lunch still on the table.

___

“Chanyeol!” The door slams after Sehun and he pauses, making a face that makes Chanyeol snort.

“Sehunnie,” Chanyeol unpauses the play-through he’s watching. He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting on the couch; figures it’s been hours. His eyes burn from how dry they are and his foot is numb, tucked underneath him.

“What did you do?” Sehun accuses, reaching over to tug harshly on Chanyeol’s ear.

“Ow, what was that for?” Chanyeol pauses the video again and rubs his ear. His fingers feel shaky, and he flexes them trying to get some feeling into them.

Sehun grins playfully at Chanyeol’s pain. He moves down to flop on to the couch next to Chanyeol. “What did you tell Jongin about me?”

“Don’t be so conceited, no one was talking about you,” Chanyeol unpauses his game again but it’s only half a second before Sehun reaches over and pauses it.

“Then why did he block my number?”

Chanyeol winces, “Oh. I, uh. I’m not sure why he blocked you.” It’s only a half-lie, he knows why Jongin is mad at _him_ , but doesn’t think that necessarily has to extend to Sehun.

Sehun narrows his eyes, “You’re a shitty liar. What did you say to him? Did you tell him some weird shit about me? I swear Chanyeol, I’ll kill you. I liked him, this was my chance to have more friends than just you and Junmyeon.”

“You have other friends,” Chanyeol says. Sehun’s just being dramatic.

“Tell me what you told him.”

“It wasn’t about you,” Chanyeol finally says, figures there’s no reason to hide it. “He probably blocked your number because you’re my friend. Don’t take it so personally.”

“What did you do then?”

Sehun’s tone is accusatory and Chanyeol frowns, “What makes you think it was me?”

“Jongin wouldn’t have blocked me if it was his fault.” Sehun says and Chanyeol knows he’s right.

Chanyeol shrugs, avoiding Sehun’s persistent gaze. “It wasn’t that big of a deal, I just told him we should just have sex.”

“Oh,” Sehun furrows his eyebrows, mouth open a little. “Did he like ask you out or something?”

“No,” Chanyeol says slowly. “I mean, I told him it should _just be sex_ —like I just didn’t really see us being friends.” Sehun’s looking at him like he’s grown another head and Chanyeol shifts uncomfortably. “That’s probably why he blocked your number,” he mumbles.

“I didn’t know you were such an asshole.”

“I’m not,” Chanyeol quickly defends himself, thinks of the way Jongin had said the same words to him.

Sehun seems to recover, is still looking at him strangely but he leans back, head resting against the couch. “Are you like okay?”

Chanyeol frowns at that, at the concern that seems to color Sehun’s tone. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know,” Sehun shrugs. “Jongin was basically your longest relationship.”

Chanyeol rolls his eyes, “We weren’t dating. I hardly knew him.”

“You were fucking exclusively for like five months, that sounds like a relationship to me.”

“It wasn’t like that with us,” Chanyeol presses play on his video, the shakiness in his fingers is back but he pretends it’s not, ignores it. “You have a skewed view of relationships anyway.”

“Sure,” Sehun says not bothering with a snarky reply. His head falls to rest on Chanyeol’s shoulder, watching the video with him. “If you think that. Jongin was nice though, you’re my friend but it was kind of a dick move.”

Chanyeol pretends he doesn’t feel the guilt in his chest, in his throat. Pretends he hadn’t wanted to crawl into bed as soon as he’d gotten home, had wanted to bury himself in blankets and not come out again until someone told him it was safe.

“Whatever.”

___

The following days melt into two weeks and Chanyeol still feels guilty. It doesn’t help that Jongin goes back to his seat across the classroom, that Junmyeon arches an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. Chanyeol figures that Sehun must have told him.

It’s not a big deal, he reminds himself.

Jongin hadn’t weaved himself into Chanyeol’s everyday life—Chanyeol had made sure of that. He was a master at compartmentalizing and Jongin had stayed firmly in the category of sex despite his attempts to bleed into other aspects of Chanyeol’s life.

He doesn’t miss him day to day, not really.

The lack of sex gets to him though; desperation makes him re-download Tinder on a Thursday after class. Jongin had looked hot, black t-shirt tight over his shoulders, hanging off his body, jeans tight across his thighs. Chanyeol couldn’t stop bouncing his leg, daydreaming about undressing Jongin piece by piece.

It’s not something he’s longer allowed to do though so he downloads Tinder. Flops back on to his bed and vamps up his profile. It’s fun and mindless and he doesn’t think about Jongin at all. He chooses new pictures of himself, two from when he was in Australia, and one from last semester where he has to crop Sehun out. It’s not the best, but Chanyeol figures it’ll do.

He starts swiping, no one quite standing out enough. He chooses men and women first, and then adjust his settings to just men. Swipes left on anyone he recognizes from class. It’s fruitless, there’s no one even remotely interesting and Chanyeol toys with the idea of hitting Jongin up. He’d called him an asshole, sure, but it’s not like they couldn’t just fuck—just one last time. Isn’t hate sex supposed to be the best type of sex anyway.

He knows he’s wrong though and he changes his expectations as he goes back to Tinder, renewed energy focused on matching with someone. Closes his eyes, takes a deep breath before he starts swiping right on everyone, fingers moving speedily through profiles.

His fingers stutter though when he recognizes a familiar face. He thinks it’s Kyungsoo’s profile at first, but he didn’t know Kyungsoo was into men and he falters. Kyungsoo is looking back up at him, face squeezed next to Jongin’s, but it’s not Kyungsoo’s profile—it’s Jongin.

His eyes are half-closed and his mouth is wide open, happiness all over his face. Kyungsoo is squeezed next to him in the frame, a small smile on his lips. Chanyeol hesitates, looks at the other pictures. There’s the same picture Jongin had shown him just a few short weeks ago—the one of Jongin with his niece and nephew at the carnival. It’s cute and it tugs a little at Chanyeol’s heart.

He swipes right.

It’s not a match and Chanyeol pretends the lump in his throat is from something else. Clicks over to his messages instead.

Chanyeol doesn’t think about it, clicks on the first one. It’s a dick picture and Chanyeol’s been there before but he deletes it, unmatches, and goes to the next message. Didn’t know people had started sending dick pictures on Tinder, had at least been expecting a cheesy pick-up line.

There’s an urgency as he goes to the next message, a need to be met. He feels exposed even when he’s alone—safely in his bed.

**_you’re cute xx_ **

It reminds Chanyeol of Jongin’s words, the same night he’d shown Chanyeol the picture at the carnival and Chanyeol moves on to the next message.

It’s another dick picture and Chanyeol’s about to give up, uninstall the app and maybe nap away whatever feeling is under his skin, but he remembers Jongin’s crotch picture. It’s not like any of this _means_ anything, it’s all just a way to find release. So he responds, unzips his jeans and shoves them down, kicks his legs when they get tangled at his ankles, doesn’t hesitate to shove a hand into his boxers.

He feels silly taking a picture like this, angles it so that nothing else is visible except his hand inside his boxers and sends that. It’s kind of a shitty picture but he doesn’t really care, it’s not like the guy deserves much more.

The reply is immediate, a mix of emojis that stir misplaced anger in Chanyeol, and he pushes the feelings down, concentrates instead of channeling his energy into getting himself off. Strokes himself rougher than necessary.

**_wish your cock was inside of me rn_ **

The message is crude and a lie but Chanyeol doesn’t care, just needs to feel wanted.

It’s not good. Even through the message the chemistry feels wrong, and it shouldn’t matter but it does.

Chanyeol closes his eyes, and let’s his mind wander away from the bad dirty talk in the messages, thinks about Jongin on top of him, fucking him slowly, pressing him into the bed.

He comes to the thought of Jongin, Tinder forgotten. His body feels spent, as if he just ran a marathon and he cleans himself up as much as possible without getting up, pulls his boxers back up and crawls under the covers.

He has a series of unread Tinder messages. Three messages that make Chanyeol’s skin crawl and then a picture of the man’s dick and torso, covered in come. Then two more messages calling him an asshole.

Chanyeol uninstalls the app, rolls over and presses his face into the pillow. He feels empty, and there’s a sob somewhere in the back of his throat trying to escape.

He reaches blindly for his phone. He half expects to be blocked just like Sehun had been.

**_can we talk_ **

There’s no answer, but there’s also not the blocked notification, and he sends another message.

**_please_ **

___

He wakes up with a headache and a parched throat. He thinks it must be early evening by the way the dark night bathes his room and he stretches, gets out of bed and pads into the kitchen.

Sehun and Junmyeon are on the couch. Sehun is leaning forward a little, engrossed in a movie or show, and Junmyeon is leaning against the armrest, cheek pressed to his hand as he scrolls on his phone, mouth a little open.

They both look up when he enters and Sehun pauses the TV, looks at Chanyeol with an expression that Chanyeol can’t quite decipher.

“You’re naked,” Junmyeon says.

Chanyeol’s not naked, he’s wearing boxers and a t-shirt. He shrugs non-committedly and heads into the kitchen, pours himself a glass of water.

“Were you here this whole time? I thought you were out.” Sehun’s voice is colored in something like concern and Chanyeol kind of hates it.

“There’s come on your shirt,” Junmyeon says. “Ow, fuck.”

Sehun’s looking at Junmyeon with hard eyes, and he looks back at Chanyeol. “Are you okay, Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol doesn’t feel okay and there is come on his shirt but he doesn’t want to talk about it. He feels like he’s just crawled out of a cave. “I’m fine,” he mumbles. “Gonna shower.”

He heads back into his room, turns on the light so that he doesn’t feel like such a gremlin. He grabs his phone from under his pillow. There’s no new messages and he deletes the conversation with Jongin—figures if he can’t unsend the messages he can at least erase the evidence of his desperation.

___

He tries to push it all down but he can tell Sehun can tell. So he avoids him, focuses instead on waking up earlier and going out for a run in the morning.

He’d felt this way before—on and off—last time it had been this bad had been the first few weeks in Australia. It was easy for it to get out of hand if he wasn’t proactive about it. It wasn’t the perfect solution to deal with anxiety but it worked for him. He made sure to wake up early, stay busy all day, so that by nighttime he was exhausted, fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. It didn’t ease the heaviness in his chest or the feeling like he was falling behind, but it made him feel less idle. Like maybe he had a little control.

The weekend goes by quick. He ignores messages from Junmyeon and Sehun asking him for lunch, and then for dinner, and then asking what time he was coming home. Ignores the message from Junmyeon that tells him to stop ignoring Sehun and ‘Sehunnie’s worried Chanyeol, where are you’, ignores them all. Instead he loses himself in his homework, starts studying for a test that’s three weeks away even though they still haven’t covered all the material. He gets a study room on the quiet floor of the library so no one bothers him, the door hidden in a hallway behind all the bookstacks, away from other students.

He can’t ignore his friends forever and he knows this. He walks into his child development class with his tail between his leg, Junmyeon’s eyes on him as he walks in and to his seat.

“Hey,” he greets, he slides into his seat, eyes downcast. He doesn’t really want to see Junmyeon’s disappointment, but he also doesn’t want to see Jongin.

“You alright?” Junmyeon’s tone is tentative, as if Chanyeol will bolt with anything more forceful than a whisper. “I brought you coffee.” He hands Chanyeol a paper cup with the logo of a café from down the street. “Lots of sugar to brighten your morning.”

Chanyeol straightens his shoulders a little bit, turns towards Junmyeon and offers him a smile he’s sure looks more like a grimace. “Just been busy.” He takes the coffee graciously though, says a small thanks even as he drinks the too sweet beverage. The sugar centers him a little and the warmth washes over him.

Junmyeon watches him carefully, “Missed you, silly.” He reaches over and squeezes Chanyeol’s hand and Chanyeol feels like crying. He squeezes Junmyeon’s hand harder than necessary and pulls away, pulls out his notebook, fixes his eyes to the front as the Professor starts class. Ignores the way his eyes burn.

His eyes wander towards Jongin about fifteen minutes into class, he’s staring straight ahead, focused.

Chanyeol looks down at his own subpar notes, isn’t even sure what he was trying to say. He lets his thoughts run, gives up on taking notes. He doodles a bit in the margin—draws a dog and adds some angel wings to it; draws a realistic bunch of grapes, even focusing on shading each one. He loses track of time, writing his name in the margin in different lettering—block and shitty calligraphy.

“We’ll be using these handouts next week, please review them and jot down some notes so we can facilitate class discussion.” The professor is counting out handouts, moving at the front of the classroom.

Chanyeol looks up, realizes class is almost over, that his notes are useless.

Junmyeon’s taking out a folder to put his handout in and the girl sitting in front of Chanyeol, turns around, elbow knocking into Chanyeol’s coffee cup. It’s mostly empty, but it still spills some. Coffee staining his notebook, bleeding into the doodles.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” the girl says, concern written all over her tone. “I think I have tissues.” She’s reaching into her bag, and Chanyeol waves her off.

“it’s fine,” he mumbles.

“God, I feel awful. I’m sorry.”

Chanyeol can feel a few people around them looking over and he blushes, sinks a little into his chair at having so many eyes on him. The girl is offering tissues, blotching at the desk.

Chanyeol hears people pack up around them, chairs scraping as they get up.

“I’m so sorry,” the girl says again, looking up at Chanyeol. “I should have been more careful.”

“It’s really okay, my notes weren’t that great anyway,” he offers her a small smile.

“I can pass you my notes? It’s the least I can do.” She reaches around him to hand the rest of the handouts and then looks at Chanyeol expectantly.

“It’s fine, really,” he repeats, suddenly feeling drained.

The girl gives him a small nod, must notice the tiredness in his expression because she says, “Alright. I’ll be more careful next time, sorry.” She packs up her stuff, wrapping up the wet tissues in a new, dry tissue, and Chanyeol feels a little like an asshole even though it had been him who’d gotten his coffee spilled and his shitty notes ruined. Mostly he feels bad about his doodles.

Junmyeon’s standing next to him patting his back and the girl turns around hands Chanyeol a handout wordlessly before she offers him a small smile and leaves.

___

Chanyeol feels stupid about the whole day. He skips his other classes and heads home. Heads straight into bed with the plan of sleeping until Sehun gets home and he’s able to beg Sehun to make him something to eat.

He’s settling into bed when his phone buzzes and he pulls it closer. There’s a message from Jongin and Chanyeol wants to delete it.

**_hey r u ok?_ **

He doesn’t know how to answer.

**_Why do you care?_ **

He feels bad almost instantly, regret bubbling in his throat. He’s about to send a message to apologize. Jongin has every reason to be mad at him, and Chanyeol is still somehow being a dick.

Jongin’s message comes through first though.

**_don’t know u just looked bad in class tbh_ **

Chanyeol takes a shaky breath.

**_sorry im a dick... im ok_ **

The three dots showing that Jongin is typing appear and then disappear and then appear again before another message comes through.

**_sometimes :p_ **

Chanyeol lets out a small laugh at that, likes the little emoticon at the end, so unlike the Jongin he’s been with, the Jongin he knows.

**_I guess I deserve that_ **

He pauses for a moment, fingers hovering over the keyboard before he types.

**_You sure know how to cheer a guy up_ **

He adds a smiley emoji for good measure, hopes it translates to show that he’s just joking, teasing lightly. It feels like new territory.

Jongin’s message is almost instantaneous.

**_nooo im jk c:_ **

**_u never look bad >:)_ **

Chanyeol pretends the words don’t go straight to his chest, pretends it doesn’t mean anything to him. He doesn’t really know Jongin, not as well as he knows his friends, but yet, they had spent five months continuously fucking. It didn’t have to mean anything, but yet it feels like something. Even if Chanyeol lied to himself, Sehun was right—it was the longest fake relationship he’s had. Maybe he doesn’t know some things about Jongin but he misses being around him, misses him in small ways.

**_i feel bad though_ **

**_about what I said_ **

**_ur not an asshole :|_ **

**_… i should say this in person but IDK_ **

The flurry of messages makes Chanyeol feel a bit dizzy. He stares at his screen as new messages come through.

**_i was just hurt_ **

**_but i get what u mean about just sex_ **

**_n like if u want that im still open to it?_ **

**_i wont force u to be like my friend or whatever haha_ **

**_no pressure though :)_ **

The smiley at the end feels shy and Chanyeol ignores the conflict of emotions inside of him, settles for texting back.

**_I’d like that_ **

___

The sex resumes and to Chanyeol it feels better than ever. Maybe because he’s not so adamant about not being friends. He still tries to keep Jongin at an arms-length but it becomes increasingly difficult to not want him closer when Sehun starts bringing him up.

Sehun brings him up so often, Junmyeon’s ears practically steam every time he does. _Jongin did this_ and _Jongin did that._

Chanyeol’s not jealous, knows he rejected the friendship when he kept pushing Jongin away. He’s happy with just the sex, and whatever else Jongin is willing to give him. Likes that he’s able to spend nights wrapped up in Jongin’s sheets; likes that Jongin doesn’t kick him out after fucking (not that he ever did, to be fair), sometimes even pulls him closer, asks him to spend the night. Likes that Jongin will sometimes crawl out of bed and start doing homework, quizzes Chanyeol on whatever topic they’re covering in child development even as Chanyeol groans that he doesn’t want to study.

It’s not so much that Jongin lets Chanyeol be there, rather that Chanyeol allows himself to stay. To sink into Jongin’s soft mattress, wrapped up in Jongin’s white comforter, face pressed against Jongin’s pillows that smell faintly of him. Allows himself to be there and take comfort in the little sounds Jongin makes when he’s studying. In the way he recites vocabulary and his readings under his breath, so softly it mixes with the silence.

It feels more and more like friendship, but contained, only within the walls of Jongin’s apartment. Chanyeol thinks he can live like that.

___

Jongin has him pressed against the mattress, kissing down his back slowly. Every nerve in Chanyeol’s body feels on fire. Jongin’s lips hot against his skin.

Chanyeol’s grinding against the mattress, his whole body is begging for more—for release.

Jongin grabs his hips, fingers feeling like they’re burning through Chanyeol’s skin, calming the movement of Chanyeol’s body. “Hold on,” his voice is soft. Chanyeol can barely hear him over his own labored breathing, feels the vibrations against his body. Words pressed against Chanyeol’s back, trapped between his lips.

Chanyeol stills, holds back a whine and bites his bottom lip.

He feels Jongin inside of him, taking him apart piece by piece and he feels his brain disconnect from his body, no longer able to think of anything except how good Jongin feels inside of him. He’s not sure how long he can last; Jongin had spread him out on the bed earlier on his knees, eaten him out until Chanyeol couldn’t stay up, until he had come all over the bedsheets.

His whole body still feels on edge though, like everything is not enough and Chanyeol has been reduced to begging. Soft whispers and pleas falling from his lips before he can realize what he’s saying. Doesn’t know what he’s saying.

“God, I’m so close,” Jongin’s voice is close to Chanyeol’s ear, and Chanyeol shudders, squeezes his eyes shut tighter.

“Yeah, please, for me,” he murmurs.

“Wanna see you,” and Jongin is flipping him, sliding out of him as he flips Chanyeol on his back. Chanyeol’s legs wrap reflexively around him, encouraging Jongin. Jongin slides into him in one hard and swift movement, grinds in tenderly, as if Chanyeol will break. Chanyeol _needs him_. He reaches for Jongin, brings him down to kiss him.

Jongin’s panting against him, lips messy as he moves away from Chanyeol’s lips, up his jaw, nose pressed against the top of his head as his movements speed up. The angle is perfect, the weight of Jongin on top of him too much. Feels like Chanyeol is breaking, falling apart, complete putty in Jongin’s hands.

“Gonna come,” Jongin says, hips erratic.

The words shoot straight through Chanyeol, and he comes for the second time that night, dick trapped between his and Jongin’s hot bodies. He bites down on Jongin’s shoulder—hard, teeth digging in as a scream tears through his body, muffled against Jongin’s skin.

He doesn’t know when Jongin comes, just feels him pull out and collapse against Chanyeol, bringing him closer, their sweaty bodies pressed against one another.

Chanyeol wants to apologize for biting him but can’t get his breathing under control. His whole body feels weightless; his legs feel like jelly. He closes his eyes, squirms closer to Jongin, and lets the tiredness wash over him.

___

Chanyeol can’t stop thinking about Jongin, leg bouncing incessantly. He’d only just seen him last night, but he wants more. The feeling of restlessness hasn’t left him all morning, and he knows that maybe he’s using sex to quell his anxiety, but it’s fine. Chanyeol’s fine.

Sehun hasn’t said anything about Chanyeol’s apparent nervousness, not even when the table shakes when Chanyeol hits the underside with his knee. He doesn’t even look up, the only sign he noticed was the way his fingers paused over his keyboard.

Chanyeol feels like he’s crawling out of his skin, buzzing with energy. He stares out the library window, it’s facing the parking lot. Chanyeol thinks he could run the whole length and weave through every car and still not be tired, still not be able to ease the feeling under his skin.

He takes out his phone, fingers clicking on a familiar chat—still at the top.

**_hey will you be busy later ?_ **

Chanyeol’s not expecting an answer right away, so he’s a little surprised to see the three dots appear showing Jongin’s typing. He ignores the little flip his stomach does in excitement, in anticipation.

**_no :(_ **

**_busy sorry_ **

He knows Jongin probably doesn’t mean it that way, knows it doesn’t—shouldn’t—really matter. Chanyeol doesn’t want to name why it does matter, why he feels disappointment.

**_no worries_ **

___

“Junmyeon’s gonna love you regardless, why do we have to get sushi,” Chanyeol whines, tugging at Sehun’s sleeve just a little bit. The air is cold and his exposed fingers are red. It feels good though, making him feel more centered in his own body. The uneasiness from before no longer so present.

Sehun lets his arm flop around, not fighting Chanyeol off. He has a little frown on his face, a wrinkle between his eyebrows, “Don’t say that.”

“Say what?”

“That.” Sehun frowns deeper and shakes Chanyeol’s fingers off, pushing him slightly so he stumbles.

Chanyeol pushes him back softly with his shoulder. “He does, dummy.”

“Whatever.” Sehun looks away, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

“We should get noodles instead,” Chanyeol suggests. There’s a shop down the road from the sushi restaurant he likes.

“I told Junmyeon I’d get him sushi.” Sehun answers, not even sparing a glance towards Chanyeol. He opens the restaurant door open and herds Chanyeol inside. “Plus, I already said I was paying and beggars shouldn’t be choosers.”

“Not a beggar if you offered,” Chanyeol sighs as he walks in. He already has his order in mind, but he also really wants noodles. Maybe he can convince Sehun to stop in on the way back, Junmyeon could wait an extra ten minutes.

“I feel like all three of us haven’t hung out properly in forever,” Sehun says. “You’re always so busy. When was the last time you hanged out with Junmyeon and I?”

“Don’t really love to be a third wheel.” Chanyeol shrugs. He’s thankful Sehun hadn’t pointed out where Chanyeol had been exactly. “Plus, you should be thanking me—you get Junmyeon all to yourself.”

“Why do you think I’m buying you sushi,” Sehun says, the line moves forward and they shuffle further into the shop.

“Would have preferred noodles,” Chanyeol mumbles. Sehun rolls his eyes.

The shop is brightly lit; the orange walls a sharp contrast from the gray from outside.

“Is that Jongin?” Chanyeol’s yanked from his thoughts at Sehun’s words.

“Where?”

“Behind you—be casual,” Sehun says, turning so he’s facing forward again as they step up to order.

Chanyeol wants to tell Sehun that he’s perfected the art of being casual in his observations. He scratches the back of his neck, eyes darting to the side as he twists back to make it look like he’s glancing outside.

Jongin is indeed sitting there. Only his side-profile is visible; facing away from the windows so he wouldn’t have seen Chanyeol come in. Something strange settles in Chanyeol’s chest, he can’t name the nervousness that seems to wash over him. He kind of wants to hide.

Sehun grabs Chanyeol’s arms and moves him toward some stools that are set up as a waiting area, “Shouldn’t be too long of a wait. Do you recognize her? Who is that?”

Chanyeol had been so absorbed in looking at Jongin that he hadn’t realized there’s a girl sitting across from him. She has long black hair and is wearing a brown sweater. She’s small and delicate and is laughing at something Jongin is saying.

Chanyeol frowns, “No I don’t know.”

“His sister?” Sehun provides.

Chanyeol doesn’t think so, something about the way they’re talking, leaning towards one another, too intimate, but he says, “Maybe.”

Sehun hums thoughtfully, and looks away, takes out his phone probably to text Junmyeon and Chanyeol is left alone in his thoughts. He tears his eyes away from Jongin and the girl, no use in dwelling on it. He tries not to let whatever jealousy is boiling inside of him come out, picturing a calm beach wave washing over him, soothing him.

It doesn’t mean anything that Jongin had turned him down for whatever he was doing now. It’s not like Chanyeol meant anything to Jongin, not like Jongin owed Chanyeol anything. Not like Jongin means anything to Chanyeol.

Chanyeol wonders if the bitemark is still on Jongin’s shoulder.

Sehun’s name is called and Sehun steps away from Chanyeol, towards the counter to grab their bags. Chanyeol feels exposed without Sehun by his side, and he wishes he could disappear, could squeeze his eyes shut and be anywhere but in the restaurant.

There’s a cold feeling of loneliness all over him. Sehun and Junmyeon have each other and Jongin has whomever, and Chanyeol has no one. He’s not really needed anywhere, he could disappear and it wouldn’t really impact anything, there’s no one waiting around for him, waiting to hear about his day, about his thoughts. The iciness passes over his whole body, he feels cold even in the warmth of the shop. The realization that he’s _secondary_ to everyone in his life is a hard pill to swallow.

He doesn’t know where the anxiety is coming from, why it matters so suddenly. Nothing’s changed, he reminds himself. But he knows it’s not true, knows he’s been lying to himself. Has let himself runaway with thoughts of it being _more_ with Jongin; even if he had constantly fought against it, there was no denying it. All the months spent in Jongin’s bed, the last few weeks where Chanyeol had found solace in Jongin’s bedroom, it all added up to _something_ —at least for Chanyeol it had, even if he kept lying to himself.

“You okay?” Sehun’s blinking at him, watching Chanyeol warily.

Chanyeol nods absently, wants to get out of there and crawl into bed. Doesn’t think he can stomach sushi right then, much less noodles.

“Sehun? Chanyeol?”

The voice is a familiar one and Chanyeol wishes he could just be swallowed up by the floor. Or pretend he didn’t hear and slip out the door.

Sehun’s looking though, a half-smile on his face and he waves tightly at Jongin. He’s already making his way over and Chanyeol follows, eyes trained on the floor.

Jongin’s eyes are shiny, and his lips are tinted pink, and Chanyeol tears his eyes away, looks at the plates of food on the table instead.

“Hey, Sehun. Chanyeol.” He nods at each of them politely and it takes all of Chanyeol’s willpower to smile tight-lipped and do the same. “This is Ani. She’s in my communications class.”

Ani smiles at both of them, and Chanyeol wants to be cold, but his own feelings have exhausted him and he doesn’t have it in himself to have any mean thoughts, greets Ani politely instead.

“Are you guys leaving?” Jongin asks, Chanyeol can feel his gaze searching him but he looks somewhere behind Ani instead.

“We just came to pick up food,” Sehun says, holding up the bag. “Junmyeon’s waiting for us.”

“Ah.” Chanyeol looks at Jongin then, doesn’t quite meet his eyes though.

Sehun smiles and then says, “We should probably head out or else he’s gonna be wondering what’s taking so long.” Chanyeol has never been so thankful for Sehun.

“Oh, of course.” Jongin says, nodding enthusiastically. “It was nice to run into you guys.” He’s looking right at Chanyeol when he says, “Maybe I’ll text you later?”

“Sure.” Chanyeol mumbles.

Sehun leads him out, hand tentatively on his back as he pushes him towards the door and into the cold evening. Chanyeol feels raw, exposed.

“You okay?” Sehun’s hand drops from him, voice quiet, and eyes straight ahead even as he asks. As if giving Chanyeol privacy while still gently probing.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Chanyeol’s voice sounds fake even to him, too thin.

Sehun makes a small noise Chanyeol can’t decipher, and says, “It’s okay if you’re a little hurt.”

“I’m not,” Chanyeol says, his voice is shot though, can barely get any sound out. Chanyeol wishes he could clear his throat, ask Sehun to wrap an arm around him, hold him down. He feels a little like a balloon, just floating, out of his body.

___

Chanyeol tries not to be disappointed that night when his phone stays empty of any messages from Jongin.

___

It’s not until a few days later that he gets to see Jongin.

Kyungsoo’s home, just on the other side of the thin wall and Chanyeol hopes Jongin will shove his face into a pillow, hold him down and use him. Needs the feeling of weightlessness, needs to ease the itch in his skin.

Jongin doesn’t have the same idea though, sucking Chanyeol so slowly Chanyeol feels like he’s going to combust. He wants to rut up into Jongin’s mouth, but Jongin’s fingertips are pressing into Chanyeol’s skin, holding him down, and Chanyeol can’t move. Stays still and let’s Jongin do whatever it is he wants; suck Chanyeol off so slowly it drives him mad.

“Wanna ride you,” Jongin says around Chanyeol and the vibrations send a chill up Chanyeol, makes his hands curl into fists at his sides, unwilling to touch. “Prepped myself for you.”

The thought of Jongin all spread out on this bed, fingers in himself, thinking about Chanyeol has Chanyeol pulling Jongin up, flushing their bodies close. He kisses him hard, eyes closed as he loses himself. Chanyeol snakes a hand around Jongin, fingers dancing on soft skin as he reaches to feel, tease Jongin a little more.

“Please,” Jongin’s voice is soft, needy, and Chanyeol wants to tear him apart from the inside.

“Lube,” Chanyeol croaks, hands reaching blindly towards the bedside table where it lays. He doesn’t waste time, prepping Jongin, and Jongin sinks into his fingers, words falling from his mouth like a prayer. Phantom touches as Jongin presses his lips against Chanyeol’s skin, trailing kisses down his jaw, to his lips, on his neck.

Chanyeol can’t take it, feels overwhelmed, it’s too much—too tender. He grabs Jongin’s waist, flips them so Jongin’s trapped under Chanyeol’s body. Pushes into Jongin and Jongin lets out a little sigh of relief even as his face twists up in something like pain. Making Chanyeol slow down, fuck into him slowly, making sure Jongin is ready.

It’s not until Jongin’s moaning steadily, unable to contain his noises that Chanyeol moves harder, lets the noises cut into him. It urges Chanyeol forward, leaning over Jongin as he fucks into him. Jongin’s fingernails scraping Chanyeol’s back, fingers digging into the muscle as his legs wrap around Chanyeol, trying to hold himself as Chanyeol moves his hips in brutalizing pace.

Jongin’s relaxed, flexible under Chanyeol and Chanyeol’s losing himself. Jongin’s too much and yet not enough. Chanyeol fucks into him harder, gripping Jongin so tightly he thinks he might break him. Thoughts of Jongin on his date playing in his mind and Chanyeol moves harder, wants to run away from those thoughts. Run away from himself.

Jongin practically screams when Chanyeol hits his prostate dead-on, clawing at Chanyeol’s back as his body crawls up the bed, as if trying to get away. He’s practically crying, words on his lips as he says, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

And Chanyeol grabs him, chases him, holds him steady and keeps going.

“More, more, more.”

Chanyeol feels fucked, completely and utterly fucked, thinks he might be ruined forever.

Jongin comes between them, come hot and heavy as it creates a mess between their bodies. And Chanyeol pulls out, rips the condom off and jerks himself at a harsh pace over Jongin’s lean body, his own orgasm hitting him like a ton of bricks. Come mixing on Jongin’s tan skin.

Chanyeol feels instantly tense as Jongin grabs him, bringing him down and kisses the corner of his mouth. Everything still feels too tender, and Chanyeol feels skittish. Body still on edge even after coming.

Jongin starts cuddling up to him, clumsy fingers moving to grip on to Chanyeol tighter, to press the lines of their bodies together and tangle their legs with each other.

Chanyeol stays stiff, body tense as he lays next to Jongin.

Either Jongin doesn’t care or doesn’t notice, because he mumbles something and presses himself hard into Chanyeol, cuddling him like a teddy bear. He throws a leg over Chanyeol.

Chanyeol wants to push him away. Instead he moves his legs a little so they slide from under him. “I should go,” he says, voice quiet in the dark.

Jongin makes a small hum that Chanyeol doesn’t know how to interpret; doesn’t let him go.

“I have to be up early tomorrow,” Chanyeol isn’t lying, he does have to be up early. But he’d had to get up early countless times and he’d still stayed over at Jongin, had woken him in the morning too early just to ask if he could borrow a clean t-shirt.

“Stay,” Jongin mumbles, lips pressed against Chanyeol’s shoulder.

Chanyeol swallows hard against the lump in his throat that’s holding back whatever it is he wants to say. “Next time,” he croaks out instead.

He hopes Jongin can’t read the uncertainty in his tone.

___

Chanyeol jolts awake, hears a giggle from somewhere in the apartment and then a loud shushing noise and another laugh.

Sehun’s voice comes clear into the room, “You’re gonna wake up Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol’s not surprised when he hears another giggle and then two pairs of footsteps pass by his room, the door to Sehun’s room shutting softly.

Chanyeol rolls over, the corner of his textbook from when he’d fallen asleep studying cutting into the skin above his eyebrow and he groans, pushes the book hard off the bed. It lands open with a soft thud. It’s only a moment before he reaches down, fixes it so that it’s closed and the pages aren’t bent. It’s a rental, after all.

He feels around himself and the tangled up blankets, trying to find his phone. It’s under a stuffed bear wearing a red and yellow Iron Man sweater his sister had gotten him two birthdays ago and he grabs it, blinking at the harsh light as his eyes adjust to the screen.

There’s two e-mails he ignores, deciding that’s a tomorrow problem for future Chanyeol. But there’s a message from Jongin sitting right next to them.

**_wyd_ **

Chanyeol’s no stranger to booty-calls, he’s also no stranger to Jongin’s specific brand of bluntness. He knows what it means.

Chanyeol squeezes his eyes shut, tries to drown the thoughts of Jongin under him; of Jongin’s fingernails digging into his back, the way his strong thighs had wrapped around Chanyeol’s middle. Tries to forget about the small noises Jongin makes when Chanyeol enters him, of the way his face twists up, shoulders tense before he relaxes, whole body pliant and flexible and _giving_.

He thinks this is a bad idea, whatever it was last time was different than before, too tender, and Chanyeol can’t do that. Jongin was supposed to be with benefits-only fuckbuddy; there weren’t supposed to be any feelings attached. There can’t be any feelings attached, but Chanyeol had already fucked that up.

He remembers how soft and shy Jongin had looked on his date, and Chanyeol squeezes his eyes tighter, tries to forget. There’s no point to keep doing this, not really.

Chanyeol hadn’t wanted to be friends, had made that clear. Jongin had found someone else and for now Chanyeol was just an outlet to him, a way to find release, but pretty soon Chanyeol would be left behind and Chanyeol doesn’t think he can handle that.

It’s this that pushes him to open the message. Fingers typing before he knows what he’s saying.

**_hey we should probably stop this yeah_ **

The three dots to show someone’s typing show up almost immediately, as if Jongin had been waiting for Chanyeol’s message.

**_what do u mean_** ****

Chanyeol stares at the four words. He doesn’t know what he means, wants Jongin to fill in the blanks. Tell him where they can go from here.

**_IDK just we should probs stop seeing each other?_ **

He leaves it as a question, half-hoping Jongin will say something. Doesn’t know what he wants Jongin to say.

**_whatever_ **

Embarrassingly enough Chanyeol feels tears well up in his eyes, waking up in the middle of the night to break up with your fuckbuddy you might have feelings for isn’t what he thought was going to happen. Can’t even really call it a break up. Can’t even call Jongin his friend.

Before his tears can fall Chanyeol types a quick message.

**_we should still be friends_..**

He thinks that if anything maybe they can start fresh, maybe it doesn’t have to be such a cold cut-off.

An error message shows up.

**_Your message to this number has been blocked._ **

Chanyeol’s tears fall then.

___

He’s expecting radio silence.

Wakes up with a deep tiredness in his bones that have him sluggishly moving through his morning routine. Making coffee and showering. He washes his hair with Sehun’s fancy shampoo, liking the way the shower steams up with the smell of roses. Wishes he could stay there forever, but knows the hot water won’t last.

It’s not until he’s pulled on a warm pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie that he grabs his phone. It’s at ten percent, screen dim. He grabs his charger, plugging it in even if only for five minutes before he heads out.

There’s a message from Jongin.

It’s unexpected and it makes Chanyeol’s heart beat fast; anxiety filling his body.

He’s expecting another mean message, some choice words about why Chanyeol’s an asshole and Chanyeol knows he deserves it, has been so hot and cold. Chanyeol just doesn’t know how to explain himself. How to tell Jongin that Jongin makes Chanyeol feel _good_ —simply put. It’s not just a sex thing, it’s the way Chanyeol’s heart squeezes at Jongin’s eye smile. The way Jongin’s soft voice lulls Chanyeol to sleep.

Chanyeol wants to spend time with Jongin, wants Jongin for himself, but he’s scared to take that leap; knows it’s unfair to push and pull with Jongin.

But he’s trying to be fair with himself, trying to not break his own heart more. It’s a necessary protection.

**_can we meet?_ **

It’s a simple message, doesn’t betray what Jongin’s feeling and Chanyeol sighs.

**_Yeah_ **

He owes it to Jongin, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. Owes him at least a half-assed explanation of why Chanyeol just can’t.

Hopes he can maybe get some clarity for himself.

___

They’re sitting outside on a bench, the quad is mostly empty; too cold for most people to be out and about. Chanyeol shoves his hands in his coat, balling them into fists.

Jongin hasn’t said anything other than a small hello and Chanyeol can’t find it in himself to talk.

Jongin clear his throat a little and Chanyeol straightens up, glancing at him from the corner of his eyes. Jongin’s looking at him with an expression Chanyeol can’t quite read; a small smile tugging the corner of his lips up.

“I’m not gonna yell at you or something,” Jongin lets out a breathless chuckle, reaching over and squeezing Chanyeol’s forearm a little. Chanyeol stiffens and Jongin moves his hand away, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, it’s fine.” Chanyeol says, feels his shoulders droop a little. _It’s just Jongin_ , he reminds himself. He feels a little silly, thinks that just a few weeks ago, at the start of the semester, he wouldn’t have felt this much anxiety over everything—over Jongin specifically either.

Jongin gives him a tentative smile, “Chanyeol. I like you. But I can’t do this back and forth with you. I don’t want to be someone you’re unsure of. I know maybe that’s a lot to put on you, and maybe it’s a little unfair of me. But. I think I deserve that.”

Chanyeol swallows hard. He’s not sure what to say. He does wants to try with Jongin, likes the way Jongin makes him feel. But he thinks that maybe that’s a selfish reason to pursue this. “You do.” He settles on. It’s not an answer but it’s the best he can do. Even as his lungs are begging for him to say more.

Jongin’s expression isn’t betraying anything, watching Chanyeol intently. Chanyeol feels exposed down to the bone. They stay quiet for a moment. “But not from you?”

Chanyeol swallows. He wants this, he really does. He feels silly suddenly. Remembers the girl and Jongin’s date, can’t find it in himself to open his mouth and ask though.

“I’m sorry if it seems like I’m pushing you. Or like an ultimatum.” Jongin seems to be choosing his words carefully, fingers tugging at a loose string on the end of his sweater. “It’s not that. I just. Chanyeol, I like you obviously. I’ve liked you since last spring. I mean, maybe not that long. But I thought you were fun, and then when we hooked up in Fall I thought that was it you know. But you left your number and I couldn’t help but think maybe. And when you were in my class, I thought for sure it was a sign. Maybe it sounds dumb, but I just, I don’t know. I really did think it was a sign.” Jongin pauses then. “But this back and forth and holding me at arms-length is not something I can do. I just want to know where I stand with you—I know you said not friends, but I don’t think that still applies.”

It’s the most Chanyeol thinks he’s heard Jongin say in one go. Something like hope blooms in his chest, takes root deep within him. “I’m really sorry,” Chanyeol starts. “I want to, I really do; I just don’t know if I can.”

Jongin smiles softly at that, “You don’t have to be so harsh with yourself.” Jongin takes Chanyeol’s hand then, rubbing his thumb across it.

“It might take me some time,” Chanyeol says honestly.

Jongin nods. “As long as it won’t be this back and forth. I just need you to know where I stand. Need to know where you stand.”

“I can’t promise anything other than I’ll try.”

Jongin’s eyes are warm. “That’s enough for now for me. For you to try.”

___

Chanyeol had expected something to snap into place after their talk. Things are not easy though.

Chanyeol feels like a scared puppy, suddenly too shy to even look Jongin in the eyes. His anxieties rise and even though Jongin is so tender there’s an itch under Chanyeol’s skin he can’t get rid of. That the sex with Jongin isn’t curing anymore. It’s amplified, leaking into every crevice of his life.

It’s the insecure monster telling him Jongin would get tired and leave. He knows it’s not really true, knows they have a long way to go to get to that point (if ever, he tries to remind himself). It doesn’t change the fact that he can’t seem to calm his shaky breaths.

It feels worse because he thinks maybe things should be easier, that the heaviness in his chest should subside, but it doesn’t. He throws himself into his work, waking up earlier, and falling asleep later. So that most days he’s just walking around like a zombie, too tired to pay close attention. He’s not sure how much longer he can keep it all up.

He looks in the mirror and notices there’s heavy bags under his eyes, his skin a sickly color. He feels half-dead, but he can’t do much more than just push forward.

He’s timely with his assignments, and keeps student-teaching, but he still feels like he’s drowning. Avoids Sehun, and Junmyeon, and even Jongin as much as possible—as much as he can get away with.

He wants to tell them, but he also feels ashamed. He just can’t explain the heaviness, can’t explain why sometimes he’s walking to class and has to sit down on the nearest bench, calm his breathing until his vision comes back into focus, un-blurs. How even through these episodes when he tries to concentrate on something he simply _can’t_. Can’t explain to him why his body sometimes thinks he’s dying, sending his heart into overdrive.

He knows he can’t go on like this though. But it’s easy to pretend. Sometimes he feels so elated, and energetic despite his little sleep, and those are the days he makes sure to see all his friends—he’ll spend the mornings lazing around with Jongin, makes sure to grab lunch with Sehun, study with Junmyeon. He gives them these moments so when he disappears for the next three days it’s not so harsh.

It comes to a head though when Chanyeol can’t find it in himself to get out of bed one day. Calls his teacher to let her know he won’t be able to come in. The pressure in his chest is just too much. It’s been three weeks since it’d gotten worse, too long.

He calls his sister.

Yoora answers on the third ring, she sounds a little breathless. “Chanyeol!” Her voice is bright and peppy and Chanyeol _misses_ her.

His chest already feels lighter even as his head continues to pound.

“Yoora,” his voice sounds small to his own ears.

“Yeollie, what’s up?” She sounds clearer now, and there’s sounds of the city leaking in through the speaker.

“Where are you?”

“Out for a run,” she answers simply. “Is everything okay?”

Chanyeol doesn’t know how to answer that. “Yoora, I want to go home.”

“Did something happen?”

“I just feel—sick.”

“Baby,” Yoora says, she must hear something in his tone because her voice is sweet rather than teasing.

“Can you pick me up?” He knows it’s maybe a lot to ask of his sister who lives two hours away.

“Of course, Chanyeol. I can be there in a few hours, we can grab food, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he whispers.

“I’ll be there soon.”

___

Yoora picks him up.

Chanyeol sneaks out of the apartment, only with a backpack stuffed with clothes. Doesn’t bother leaving a note for Sehun or texting Junmyeon or Jongin. Doesn’t know how he can tell them— _hey, I just need some time off from like life right now_.

Yoora’s understanding, must notice something in Chanyeol’s eyes because she doesn’t push it, doesn’t ask him anything except what he wants to eat.

There’s a Thai restaurant near her apartment Chanyeol remembers visiting and he names it, settling into the car seat and pressing his forehead against the car window, watching the landscape pass by.

He feels slightly more tranquil, but there’s an undercurrent of panic. He knows that he can’t stay at Yoora’s forever, that he can’t just run away.

Yoora must be able to read minds, or she’s just attuned to Chanyeol’s feelings because she reaches over and squeezes his shoulder; stays silent the whole ride.

___

The silence doesn’t last though, as soon as the waitress sets down their food, Yoora clears her throat. None of the dishes look particularly appetizing at the moment but Chanyeol reaches for some rice.

“Did something happen, Chanyeol?” Yoora’s looking at him with wide eyes and Chanyeol looks down at the table.

He shrugs a little, “Nothing really.”

“Then why are you here?” Yoora’s tone is gentle, but her words searching.

“I just needed a break,” Chanyeol doesn’t particularly want to talk here, despite the restaurant being mostly empty except for a couple near the front.

“Did you have a break-up? What happened?”

Chanyeol takes a small bite, eats slowly even as Yoora watches him, knows it’s pointless to try to delay. “It was just everything—school, and working at school, and the future, and my feelings and relationships, and everything. I just feel out of my depth sometimes.” It’s an understatement but it’s the most he can give Yoora here, now.

Something like understanding crosses through Yoora’s face and she reaches over and squeezes Chanyeol’s hand, before going back to her food. “Chanyeol, you can always talk to me. Whatever is going on, you have me.”

“I know, I just. I just feel so lost. Like I don’t know what I’m doing. I look around me and everyone seems to know, and I just feel inadequate. I’m just so anxious about everything, sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe.”

Yoora gives Chanyeol a soft look, “Yeollie, I know how you feel. I— I think I felt the same way in college, I can reassure you few people around you actually know what they’re doing. Even now, in the so-called real world few people know what they’re doing. Life’s about taking chances, forging your own path. Failure’s part of that.” Yoora frowns slightly. “I know it seems easy for me to say that, but trust me I get it. I studied Art History for god’s sake, I didn’t know what I was going to do with that. But, Chanyeol, things always work out. You’re smart and lovable and have a good head on your shoulders. Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s ok if you get like this but reach out before it gets this bad again, okay.”

“I, okay.” Chanyeol feels all choked up.

Yoora sets her chopsticks down, tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “I know you’re an adult and everything, but. There’s this therapist I see sometimes here in the city. I think therapy is good generally,” Yoora cuts in when she sees Chanyeol start to speak, she holds up a hand. “I think you should talk to her? You don’t have to tell mom; I can pay for a session. See if you like it. We can go from there?”

Chanyeol can’t imagine how they’d make that work long-term but he finds himself nodding along. He’d gone to a therapist in Australia—a session with the school counselor who Chanyeol hadn’t been able to open up to but had managed to learn little tricks to help his anxiety. To deal with it instead of just pushing it down.

He thinks Yoora’s right though. Even if it’s just one time, he needs more help. Can’t keep running from himself.

—

Therapy does help.

Chanyeol unloads on the therapist with such candor he surprises himself. He rambles so much his voice is a little hoarse at the end and the therapist smiles softly at him. At the end she gives Chanyeol a business card, explains she’d be happy to offer her services over video, but also recommends Chanyeol consider getting a therapist he can see in person. Ultimately leaving the choice up to him.

Chanyeol feels a renewed sense of energy when he walks out. Doesn’t feel quite so aimless, still lost, just not as much. Feels like he’s finally kicking his feet, head above water. There’s still anxiety in his chest, but it feels less like it’s pulling him under, he feels like he can keep it down.

Doesn’t feel the inexplicable need to go for a run around the city until his lungs give up and his legs collapse just so that he can calm the anxiety.

Yoora had offered to pick him up but Chanyeol had declined, insisted on taking the time to walk to her apartment. Wander the streets of the city alone.

He treats himself to lunch and sits on a booth alone, eating slowly. Taking everything in. His phone sits heavy in his pocket, turned off, and he knows he needs to get to it but also knows he needs the solitude—the peacefulness before he returns.

___

He stays with Yoora for five days total. Misses three days of classes and stays the weekend, only thinks about his grades in fleeting moments. He’d gotten so far ahead he knows he’d be alright, nothing unmanageable when he got back.

Yoora drops him off Sunday night.

Chanyeol doesn’t have class Monday until early afternoon, but he’d usually go in to his classroom. The drive back he’d consider missing it, but he misses his kids and more importantly he _wants_ to go. Doesn’t want to give himself an excuse to hole up in his room again.

He’s not expecting to be hit as soon as he opens the door. Pillow smacking him in the chest before Sehun’s on him, Junmyeon at his side trying to pull him back.

“Where the fuck have you been? I thought you were dead,” Sehun has him in a bone-crushing hug.

“I was with Yoora,” Chanyeol says. He hadn’t turned his phone back on, even on the drive back he hadn’t felt the courage. Wanted to bask in the peacefulness for a bit longer.

“Why didn’t you say anything? You disappeared and I thought you’d been kidnapped or something.”

“Sehunnie,” Chanyeol laughs a little.

“Junmyeon reminded me that it made no sense though because you’re so annoying they’d return you.”

“Hey,” Junmyeon says. Sehun steps back, watching Chanyeol intently. The playfulness in his eyes and tone don’t disguise his worry though. It’s etched in his face.

“I just needed a little break. To clear my head.” Chanyeol smiles softly, he doesn’t want to get into it but hopes he can ease some of Sehun’s concerns.

Sehun nods once, eyes still intense on Chanyeol. “Did it have to do with Jongin?”

“No,” Chanyeol shakes his head, looking between Sehun and Junmyeon. He doesn’t want to reveal too much, doesn’t want to worry them more than he already has. “It was just about me.”

“Okay,” Sehun accepts it easily and takes Chanyeol small duffel bag, moving into the apartment, and Junmyeon and Chanyeol follow. Junmyeon wrapping an arm around Chanyeol’s waist. He knows it’s no secret that he’s been slowly crumbling the last few weeks, but Chanyeol doesn’t want to address it—not yet. He’s not ashamed, he just wants time. Doesn’t want to answer a million questions.

“I think I’m just going to shower and sleep. I’m tired and I want to go into the classroom tomorrow. I’ve already missed too much.” He tries to make his tone as cheery as possible, is a little surprised when it’s not that hard. For the first time in the last few weeks he doesn’t feel so restless.

___

He doesn’t know what startles him awake, but his door is slowly opening and there’s soft voices whispering things Chanyeol doesn’t quite grasp.

There’s a silhouette outlined by the hallway light and Chanyeol sits up, rubs sleepily at his eyes as he looks at Jongin.

“Hey, sorry, I woke you.” Jongin’s voice is barely above a whisper but it carries, wraps around Chanyeol and makes his heart tug a little.

“What time is it?” Chanyeol’s throat feels parched, voice raspy.

“Like ten,” Jongin says, he moves further into the room and then stops. “Can I come in?”

Chanyeol doesn’t point out Jongin is already inside, just nods. Hopes Jongin will wrap him up in a hug and stay the night. He wants to ask Jongin to crawl under the covers with him, but he doesn’t. Feels shy and a little bad that he disappeared for so long without a word. Especially after their talk, after Chanyeol had said it was all fine, that he was going to try.

Jongin is clearly hesitant, even as he moves closer, shutting the door and making the room dark again. Chanyeol feels comfortable in the dark, just the streetlight coming in through the blinds.

“Come here,” he murmurs and feels as the bed dips, as Jongin gets closer.

“I missed you,” Jongin says, arms around Chanyeol, holding him tight.

Chanyeol feels centered, lets his body relax into the hug. Pulls Jongin closer and scoots over, covering Jongin with the blanket and burying into his chest.

“Are you okay?” Jongin’s voice is delicate, and Chanyeol can feel as it reverberates through his chest.

“I will be,” Chanyeol says. “I feel okay right now—sleepy.”

“I was really worried.”

“Didn’t think I was kidnapped?”

“Junmyeon convinced Sehun and I you weren’t,” there’s a smile in his voice, tone playful and it eases Chanyeol’s heart.

“I have a bit of anxiety,” Chanyeol says.

“Ah,” Jongin supplies but doesn’t say much more.

“I’m sorry I disappeared.”

“I’m just glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Chanyeol whispers, voice light as air, and he tangles their feet together.

Jongin presses a cold foot against Chanyeol’s calves and Chanyeol squirms at the iciness, pushes him away as he lets out a breathless laugh. Jongin laughs, tumbles into Chanyeol and pulls him closer, bodies tangling with each other.

___

Chanyeol wakes up facing the wall. He turns to see Jongin a ways away, and Chanyeol scoots closer, pressing his body against him and props himself up on his elbow, watching as Jongin sleeps, chest rising and falling slowly. He kinda wants to shake Jongin awake and then kiss Jongin silly until his lips fall off.

Jongin cracks an eye open, dark eye trained on Chanyeol before he wraps an arm around him and brings Chanyeol down to his chest. “Stop staring,” his lips are pressed against Chanyeol’s hair and the words are muffled, trapped.

“Can’t help it, you’re so pretty,” he’s only half-teasing.

Jongin makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and something more guttural, and it sends a little shiver down Chanyeol’s spine.

He needs to get up and get ready to head into the classroom but he wants to spend as much time as possible just laying here. It’s still early, gray light filtering into the room.

He turns his head up, wriggling out of Jongin’s grip to press kisses to Jongin’s jawbone, up to his ear, biting his lobe playfully before moving back. Kisses him short and sweet. Jongin wraps his arms around Chanyeol, bodies moving together until Chanyeol straddling him.

Jongin’s in the sweatpants he’d worn last night, and Chanyeol’s wearing his pajamas, and the fabric is thin but still too much. Jongin must have the same thought because he pushes Chanyeol off gently. Cages Chanyeol against the mattress, wriggles out of his sweats and boxers without hesitating.

“Off, off.” He says, tugging at Chanyeol’s pajamas, exposing Chanyeol’s bare skin and half-hard dick. “I need you.” He says, taking Chanyeol in his hand.

The grip is rough and hard and not the best, but Chanyeol thinks it’s perfect. Wants this as much as Jongin does, more possibly.

Jongin straddles his lap, taking them both in his hand, movements jerky, and Chanyeol melts. Reaches for Jongin, needs to feel him closer. Wishes they had time for more.

“Need you so bad,” Jongin mumbles, a small groan leaving his lips, even as his movements become shakier. His eyes squeeze shut and he comes like that. Chanyeol reaches down, helps him through it before jerking himself off quickly, muscles tense before his body lets go.

___

“I would appreciate it if you guys didn’t fuck in the shower,” Sehun says in lieu of a greeting when Chanyeol goes into the kitchen, Jongin trailing behind him. They’re both still hazy from morning handjobs and a warm shower. Sehun looks half-asleep himself, hair a mess and wearing loose bottoms and a big t-shirt, collarbones exposed. There’s a distinct red mark by his ear and Chanyeol wonders if Sehun has noticed it.

Chanyeol doesn’t hesitate to slap Sehun playfully on the shoulder, “Shut up.” He moves past him, reaching for two mugs. “Like you and Junmyeon haven’t done worse.”

“We haven’t, we respect shared spaces,” Sehun says.

Chanyeol rolls his eyes, smiling at the fact that Sehun hadn’t bothered to deny it. He doesn’t know what’s going on with his two friends, but he’s happy for them. Figures Sehun will let him know in due time.

Jongin’s hanging back by the counter, watching them and Chanyeol offers him a smile. “Coffee or tea?”

“Tea, please.”

“The domesticity is killing me,” Sehun says, pushing past Jongin and into the living room. He calls out, “You guys are cute though.”

Chanyeol rolls his eyes for show, smiling at Jongin who moves closer to the kitchen. He wraps his arms around Chanyeol’s waist, stretches his body to hook his chin on Chanyeol’s shoulder.

“You’re cute, but this is actually an impediment to getting your tea ready.”

“Don’t need tea,” Jongin mumbles, stretching to kiss Chanyeol’s cheek.

Chanyeol pulls away, turns around to bring Jongin closer, kissing him softly, coffee and tea forgotten.

Jongin pulls away after a moment, “Changed my mind, I do want tea.”

Chanyeol laughs, turns around to finish. Hands Jongin tea that’s probably subpar.

Jongin takes it happily, sips it slowly as he watches Chanyeol.

“I really like this,” he says after a while.

“Like what?”

“This. Us. Being here with you.” Jongin’s voice is so sincere.

“I like this too,” Chanyeol says, even as the words try to get stuck in his throat.

Jongin reaches over and squeezes his forearm, fingers applying pressure. His palm is soft and a heavy and it tethers Chanyeol.

Chanyeol feels grounded in the moment, more present in his body than he’s felt in a while. He knows the heaviness in his chest hasn’t disappeared, the itch under his skin still there waiting, but he thinks he knows how to hold himself down, how to not be so restless.

He grabs Jongin’s hand, squeezes it gently, moves forward and kisses him softly. Jongin’s mouth tastes like green tea and something Chanyeol can’t quite name.

“I like you so much,” Jongin says, words escaping between kisses, breathless. They wrap around Chanyeol, envelop him warmly, centering him.

“Me too,” he murmurs, words tumbling out of him. “Like you too much.”

**Author's Note:**

> ahhhhh pls let me know what u think, this is my first time writing chankai and i had fun
> 
> i originally wanted chankai himbos (and also a little hate) n thats what it started as but that didnt happen sooo there's this now
> 
> [twt](http://www.twitter.com/suloeys)


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